


Wanting to Understand Him

by leonine1959



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Gay Sex, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonine1959/pseuds/leonine1959
Summary: Spoilers for DR1, DR2, DR3 Anime. Hajime Hinata, along with the 77th class, has returned to Jabberwock Island about a month after the events of DR3. He starts to admit that there's only really one person who can keep his boredom at bay as he starts to piece together shared memories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a ton of fanfiction and this is my first DR one, but I'm KomaHina trash so...I also wanted to add that I'm trying to establish to what extent and the manner in which the 77th class obtain their memories after DR2 since that seems to be very controversial as well. I really appreciate all comments and reviews so I can learn, grow, improve, etc. Thanks again!

“Hello, Mr. Hinata, I’m calling from the Jabberwock University Hospital, to confirm your appointment for tomorrow at 2:00 PM to meet with the physician regarding your test results.”

 

“Huh? Oh right, yeah, I’ll be there.”

 

“Go ahead and check-in with Neurology on the 2nd floor when you get here. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Hinata.”

 

“Thanks, you too.” Click.

 

A strange mix of dread and optimism churned in Hajime’s stomach and started to wonder whether hunger was partly to blame, as it was a little after 6:00 PM. Although they had disembarked and settled on the island once again about a month ago, he struggled with establishing domestic life and felt little desire to go to the grocery store. Rocketpunch was the kind of place where its name could never deliver on its promise, which could only remind him of this boredom he never could shake for long. The sudden pang of guilt set in: things were peaceful once again… there was no immediate Despair…no Hope brainwashing… Makoto Naegi was now principal of Hope’s Peak as well as one of the chairmen for the Future Foundation, which ensured the employment of the entire 77th class, funding their enterprises as a part of the foundation. What could he complain about?

 

The familiar chime of a text resounded. Hajime’s eyes skimmed over the screen: _“Hey everyone…a friendly reminder that I’m having a soft opening for the restaurant tonight! Feel free to have a taste and bring your…soft openings ;)”_

Hajime rolled his eyes in disgust. _Pervert…you couldn’t help yourself this one time for your business venture, Teruteru._ His stomach grumbled in protest and finally he resigned himself to walking the five or six blocks to Teruteru’s restaurant, Maman, the preparation of which Hajime only really noticed because of their white-blond, eccentric companion who was always willing to assist with cleaning and preparations. He wondered if he would make it tonight and then begrudgingly wished he would. Maybe some of that Ultimate Luck would win out.

 

The pervert’s comments aside, Hajime couldn’t help but admire the understated elegance of the quaint waterfront restaurant accented by the sunset. He grimaced, suddenly feeling far too informally dressed for the setting in his dark jeans, sneakers, short-sleeved Oxford shirt and tie. He wasn’t quite sure why he still dressed like he was still in some private high school, but he felt weird in anything else unless he was at home alone. Hajime shrugged, exerting more effort to pull the cast iron door handle to enter the building.

 

“Mmm, Hajime, I wasn’t expecting you to be one of the first to bite at my intimate little invitation…” The robust chef eyed him suggestively, running a comb through his pompadour.

 

Although his face flushed red, Hajime responded flatly, “I have some pretty violent talents, Teruteru. I’m not sure you want to test me.”

 

The chef merely salivated, his eyes glazed over. “I wish I could, Mr. Hinata. But never mind all that, you must be hungry and my sous chef is whipping up just the comfort dish for you. Wine list?” His eyes glinted as he purred, “You’re legal, right?”

 

“We’re all basically the same age…you’re the chef, bring a bottle of whatever you think is good, but you have to open it at the table. No drugging, okay? As if I can even trust you…”

 

Teruteru agreed in delight as he retreated from the table. Sighing in relief, Hajime’s eyes roamed over the interior of the restaurant. Dark tablecloths, black-and-white photographs of the oceanside (likely courtesy of Mahiru), all accented by candles peppered throughout the restaurant and dim recessed lighting. _Why is it so dark in here?_ He noticed Akane and Nekomaru downing oysters noisily in one of the corners. His eyes shifted slightly to the bar where Fuyuhiko and Peko were nursing some sake and chatting stealthily, betrayed only by occasional little smiles. In normal circumstances, Hajime would feel obliged to go over and catch up, but given the collective contentment and that they saw each other pretty regularly as it were, he opted to sit silently. As the minutes passed, he began to wonder when his good luck would kick—

 

“Hajime?”

 

The brunet young man looked up and smirked. _Record timing_. Intentionally disheveled white blond hair, pale glass green eyes, long dark green hoodie with red splotches, loose white t-shirt with the scarlet logo, dark jeans with a skull wallet chain…Hajime felt puzzled by how distinctly he could recall these details even if the guy wasn’t right in front of him. His gaze must have lingered a little longer than he intended, as he noticed his friend’s pale skin turn slightly red.

 

“You’re staring. Do I look terrible today? I mean, I know I’m useless trash but—”

 

Hajime protested, “No! No…no, you look like, um, you.”

 

Nagito Komaeda frowned slightly, as if deciphering the comment’s intention.

 

The brunet continued, “No, you look…” _Come on, Hajime, I’m sure ‘Ultimate Bullshit’ is one of your talents, right? Think of a complimentary word that doesn’t sound suspicious…_ “You look well.”

 

Nagito’s lips morphed into that assuring smile, his eyes crinkling slightly yet still almost too large for his face.

 

“Thanks, Hajime. I think I’m finally starting to sleep a little more since we got back. You look great too, by the way.”

 

Hajime felt grateful for the surrounding darkness, his cheeks burning for such an innocuous comment. “Er…thanks. Um…are you having dinner by yourself?”

 

The blond chuckled slightly, “I mean, everyone’s been nice enough but…I don’t think anyone can really deal with me for an entire dinner, Hajime.”

 

Hajime felt a pain in the pit of his stomach, remembering that even though his friend had received a lot of support and encouragement since he had awoken from the Neo World Program, he continued to be uncomfortably self-effacing in conversation. Hajime’s only response, which seemed to be more of an Izuru Kamukura pragmatic confidence thing, was to directly counter Nagito’s negative self-talk.

 

“Nagito, you’re an important member of the team and I want to catch up. Sit down and have dinner with me.” Of course, the Hajime Hinata part wanted to scratch his neck and hide under the table after saying something so unveiled. “Err…if you want…”

 

Nagito’s smile deepened, his eyes softening slightly in a way that only made Hajime blush harder. “Hajime…”

 

The brunet nodded to the chair opposite himself, and the blond’s robotic hand pulled out the chair before he quietly sat down.

 

“Oh, you have a date, huh, Mr. Hinata? Maybe I can wrap things up quickly and we’ll make it a threesome.” Before either of the young men could rebuke him, the chef placed two wine glasses, made a semi-lewd display of uncorking the wine bottle to Nagito’s rare annoyance and began to pour for Hajime until the latter interrupted.

 

“Pour for Nagito first and let him taste, he’s the lucky one.”

 

“I dunno, Hajime, my taste in the finer things is probably lacking—”

 

“Just make sure it’s not vinegar, okay?!”

 

Teruteru poured a couple of ounces, leaving the bottle at the table. Nagito took a small sip, eyes closed, and released a pleased sigh before smiling fully, his pale lips and white teeth slightly tinged with the red wine. Hajime barely reeled his thoughts back in at the sight, awaiting the verbal review.

 

“So…?”

 

“Hajime…if this wine was any better, I think I’d be worried about losing a few of our friends' lives right now. But, don’t take a lowly bug’s opinion, I’m not a big drinker anyway.”

 

The brunet rolled his eyes as his companion filled half the glass with the garnet-colored liquid. He gingerly took a sip, noticing the sweet and bitter flavors dancing on his tongue until he swallowed, a sudden warmth filling his chest and throat. He took another swig, the sensation similar, perhaps more intense, the heat spreading to his face this time as Nagito chuckled.

 

“Are your friends dying, too, Hajime?”

 

He glowered at Nagito as he muttered, “I can’t believe you still talk like that, after everything we—” Hajime’s eyes widened as he bit the inside of his cheek.

 

Nagito’s smile fell as he leaned in. “What? Go on, what were you saying? I mean…I guess you don’t have to tell me…I know that I’m trash.”

 

_I need to be careful with this wine…I shouldn’t talk about what happened during his… not yet anyway…_

The brunet hastily redirected, “What are you up to tomorrow, Komaeda?”

 

The blond’s expression brightened again. “Hajime, you want to know what I’m up to? Wow, I feel honored…um, I just have an appointment tomorrow at the hospital.”

 

_Wow, that is lucky._

 

“What time? What department?”

 

Nagito shrugged, “Three in the afternoon with Neurology. Why?”

 

Hajime’s eyebrows drew together, concerned, as he asked, “Did something happen?”

 

Nagito’s hands came up, spreading in that familiar “don’t worry” fashion as he smiled, “No, they did some routine CT and MRI scans a couple of days ago. I think they just want to go over the results.”

 

Hajime’s heart beat raced as the palms of his hands became clammy. _What if…what if something actually did change…no way…_

 

“Uh, Komaeda? I have a doctor’s appointment too, right before yours…did you want to go together?”

 

Nagito cocked his head in a more cynical expression. “Heh. I dunno, isn’t it kind of weird to go with each other to the doctor?”

 

Hajime scoffed, “It’s not like we’re having a kid! It’s just a chance to hang out and chat, that’s all. Maybe you’d want to talk about it?” _Way to not make things weird, Hinata…where did that pregnancy thing come from?_

 

Nagito shifted into a graceful, effervescent smile, “Well, when you say it like that, I think it would be fun. You’ve always been a good listener.”

 

The rest of the evening between them was relatively quiet and lighthearted, with frequent people-watching as the rest of the 77th class arrived in staggered waves of two or three, waving to them before dining in their little groups. Hajime smirked as he noted how much more high school-esque this feeling of separation was. Teruteru personally served them beef and potato stew based on his mother’s recipe, claiming it was “on the house”, and it was easily the most satisfying meal they had since returning to the island, despite all the innuendo. Surprisingly, the wine was an ideal pairing and the young men killed the bottle by the end of the meal.

 

Nagito grinned, his teeth and lips edged in darker red now. “Hajime, are you alright?”

 

Hajime’s eyelids drooped inconsistently as he groaned in acknowledgement.

 

“Come on, Hajime.” The blond extended his organic hand, which the brunet timidly accepted, feeling himself struggle to maintain balance, reaching for the table to steady himself. _I’m not THAT much of a lightweight, am I?_

 

“Hey, bastard! Are you getting home okay?” While Hajime couldn’t bear to face the source of the voice, he knew it was dripping with Ultimate Yakuza bluntness. Thankfully, or embarrassingly, Nagito waved and smiled on his behalf as they left the restaurant.

 

“Uh, Hajime? My place is a couple blocks from here…why don’t you come over for a bit? It’s pretty clean, that’s one of the things I’m decently good at, and I know I’m pathe—”

 

“Lessgo”, Hajime slurred, his head jerking in the direction the blond indicated, the latter smiling shyly as he led them through the quiet streets, only interrupted by the sound of crashing waves.

 

They finally arrived at a very clean, sparsely decorated first floor apartment. Hajime squinted, holding the doorframe for stability, “Komaeda, you could’ve afforded one on a higher floor with a view of the water, right? I thought you liked the beach.”

 

The blond smirked as he beckoned his friend inside. “I didn’t think having a balcony higher up would be necessarily safe for someone like me or if I had guests, you know?”

 

Hajime shook his head as he felt a shiver ascend his spine. Even when inebriated, he couldn’t shake the unpredictable lining of Komaeda’s words, especially when they were delivered so pleasantly.

The blond sat down on the couch, frowning slightly. “You’re making a really scary face, Hajime. Is something wrong?”

 

Shrugging, Hajime joined him and protested, “No, just thirsty, not feeling well…drank too much, I guess. Who knew Teruteru could import such good wine…”

 

Nagito quickly entered the small kitchen, retrieving a large glass and a pitcher of ice cold water. He gave his guest a healthy pour before setting the pitcher down on the coffee table.

 

“No orange juice?” Hajime inquired raspily.

 

Nagito scoffed as he lowered himself onto the couch, “That’s way too acidic for preventing a hangover. Drink up.”

 

The brunet let out a disgruntled groan before downing the contents of the glass, reaching forward to the pitcher to pour more, but miscalculating as his wrist began to twitch and he nearly dropped—

 

Nagito’s warm hand wrapped firmly around his wrist, the robotic one supporting the base of the pitcher before the water could spill. “I think you should let me do the pouring tonight, Hajime.”

 

Hajime’s eyes trained on the blond’s pale green ones that resembled the ocean water in the late afternoon, the grey-green marbles he played with as a kid and later kept on his desk for luck on test days, the mist that disguised the forest when all of them went hiking together on the island… _What the hell am I thinking about?_

 

“Hajime, I was wondering—”

 

“What?! What, I didn’t say…what are you talking about?”

 

Nagito gently chuckled, handing him another glass of water.

 

“You’re so paranoid! You just looked like you were spacing out. But since I have your attention, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but…” His eyes shifted downward and he held his chin, musing. “Um, in the restaurant, you talked about how everybody did something that should have changed the way that I…talk I guess?”

 

_Oh fuck…c’mon, I’m still pretty drunk…play drunk, Hajime._

 

“Ehhh, did I say that? We both drank a lot, I’m sure you misunderstood…”

 

“Hajime.”

The blond’s hand became anchored to Hajime’s shoulder as his voice became quiet. “Hajime, I’m asking because…from the bits and pieces I remember from school and from Neo World Program…it’s like I have a different operating system, like the choices I make when I talk to people or the ideas that come up for me…they’re not familiar.”

 

Nagito’s eyes darkened as he wrapped his arms around himself, his pale face contorted in thought. He continued, “I’m lucky that Future Foundation gave us all this information about when we were…” His face wrinkled in disgust. _Ultimate Despairs, yeah, I know_. “And I know we won’t make the same mistakes, but something else has changed and I can’t shake it.”

 

_He’s not wrong…probably. But how do I…?_

The brunet pinched bridge of his nose. “Komaeda, all of us are very different from our time at school, okay? I’m sure everybody feels like you do on some level, except you actually think about it a lot more than most of us…”

 

The blond parted his lips slightly as he looked up. “But you still think about it a lot, don’t you, Hajime?”

 

Suddenly parched, Hajime took several gulps of water. He paused, maintaining his friend’s gaze before responding, “Yeah, I guess I do. Do you feel better now?”

 

Nagito broke into a slow smile, his eyes suddenly full of something Hajime couldn’t quite pinpoint but nevertheless, it caused a strange warmth to spread across his skin. Then, it happened so suddenly, a flash…

 

The same look was plastered on Nagito’s face as he stood facing Hajime in some sort of library or museum, with Monokuma portraits and figures present. His lips parted slowly, the smile maintained.

 

_“Please, don’t forget…from the bottom of my heart…I am truly in love with the hope that sleeps inside you.”_

_Wait…what? When did that…how could I forget something like…did he really say that to me?_

 

“Hajime!” Nagito’s hands braced on the brunet’s shoulders as the latter’s eyes fluttered open.

 

“I- I just…never mind, I should get going—”

 

Nagito’s grip tightened as he insisted, “Look Hajime, you keep drifting in and out, and plus, it’s kinda dangerous to go out at this hour. Even if I’m worthless trash, I wouldn’t want my guest to take any unnecessary risks. Go ahead and take my bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

 

Hajime resisted as he said, “No, I can stay on the couch—” but the blond gently pushed him onto the bed, lifting the sheets as an invitation to his guest to pass out.

 

“C’mon, Komaeda, it’s fine, just let me go home…”

 

As Hajime felt his eyelids grow heavy, he began to wonder if Teruteru had indeed attempted to drug him and whether or not Nagito would assist in the investigation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some references to Super Danganronpa 2.5, just a heads up, and I do use lines from the games/anime for flashback as needed. 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far, I really do appreciate it and highly encourage you to give any feedback! 
> 
> I've been struggling with how to characterize Komaeda in a balanced way since I feel like people either veer way too much into sweetness or insanity when writing him. Any tips on that would be awesome! 
> 
> I also want to apologize for the medical explanations in this chapter...did my best to research enough to make it pertinent to the story. Anyway, enjoy and let me know how it is!

_“Hey…can you hear me?”_

_The distant caws of seagulls echoed over the sound of waves crashing. His eyes blinked, barely clearing the impressionistic blur of blues, greens, and a blinding white to reveal a ghostly figure._

_“Hey, are you alright?...You sure look exhausted?”_

_The view began to clear, to stabilize slightly. Light blue sky, blinding sunlight, tufts of clouds…tufts of white hair, a small mouth agape, pale jade green orbs widening…_

_“I am too, you know. We all are.”_

_He raised his hand, an attempt to touch this entity, to verify his existence._

_“I mean… with all the crazy stuff that’s happened…”_

 

_He ran his fingers over this boy’s soft cheek, marveling at how delicate –_

 

“Hey, are you listening? Hajime?”

 

He gasped, the figure still hovering over him, the pale skin continued uninterrupted down his neck, torso, long arms, deft fingers whether robotic or organic…Hajime froze in realization, noticing his fingers still pressed against Nagito’s face, the latter betraying only a small smile and a light flush. The brunet clutched his hand to his chest, his eyes scanning the rippled ceiling. _Obviously not at the beach, just a dream…or…_

“Was it a nightmare? What happened?”

 

Hajime’s hand flew to cover his eyes as he turned slightly, his muffled voice muttering, “No, not a nightmare…”

 

He felt his friend’s body prop himself on the side of the bed. “A normal dream then?”

 

Hajime grumbled, “I wouldn’t say normal…”

 

Nagito persisted, “So, what do you remember? I promise I won’t say anything, I wouldn’t want anyone knowing you touched the face of someone like me.”

 

The brunet bit his lip as he rolled over to meet his friend’s eyes. “You said you’re still remembering stuff from…from before. How did we meet?”

 

The blond smiled, “You dreamt about…me?”

 

Hajime shook his head, lightly stretching as he rolled out of bed. “Cut it out! I just want to make sense of it. Do…do you remember meeting me?”

 

Nagito’s eyes shifted to the corner of the room, his hand resting on his chin. “A couple of months ago, I remembered something. You had long hair then, you know, and both of your eyes were red. My gun was jammed, heh…but you shot me with it.”

 

_Fuck…no…I did that to you?_

Hajime’s stomach dropped as his friend’s gaze returned to his face, still smiling slightly.

 

“Komaeda…I’m…I’m sorry. Obviously, I wasn’t my…” His voice trailed off in recognition of how little he knew himself in truth.

 

“I just went blank after that…but I’m still here and…” Nagito’s voice trailed off, his robotic arm gesturing to his unscarred chest, “I guess nothing happened? I will say, the way you did it really floored me.”

 

The brunet’s eyebrows furrowed as he racked his mind for any hint of that scene, coming up empty.

“You got my gun somehow…then you spun around and pulled the trigger…so fluidly. You were an Ultimate like no other. Skillful, graceful…the most beautiful thing I…” The blond had folded his arms in self-embrace, nearly panting as he looked up, eyes gleaming in rapture.

 

_What…the fuck…is wrong with…ugh.._

 

Hajime’s face scrunched up, incredulous, as he hissed, “How could you say that? I shot you! No, fuck that… Kamukura shot you! I- I would…and will never do it!”

 

_Settle down, Hinata…_

 

Nagito’s face fell, clutching his wrist. “Hajime, I’m sure you had a good reason. You know I would have gladly—”

 

“Shut up!” Hajime’s fingers clutched his hair in frustration “You want to know the reason? Despair, probably…whatever the hell that means…I bet Enoshima ordered me to do it.”

 

The blond’s eyes darkened and narrowed, his silvery voice cutting through, “You wouldn’t do it for that. That was never your endgame, Hajime…I don’t believe it…”

 

_Calm down, Hinata. I don’t even know when that happened. Recovering memories…I’m not sure how accurate it could be for someone like him anyway._

“In your dream…how did we meet, Hajime?” Nagito had moved closer, his eyes searching as always.

 

_He deserves a memory of us meeting without him getting shot._

“In this one, I was passed out on the beach and you woke me up. I’m guessing it’s from when we started Neo World Program. I doubt that was the first time though.”

 

Nagito chuckled, “I think my story was a little more interesting, Hajime. Since I won, can I pick what we get for breakfast? I mean, as long as it’s okay with you.”

 

_I can never win with this guy._

* * *

 

After filling up on breakfast sandwiches, they took the Third Island bus to a large, glass-spiraled building. If Hajime was correct, The Future Foundation funded this project within the last year. This was unlike any hospital he’d been to and he wondered who in the foundation had such a hard-on for modern architecture.

 

“It would take immense talent to design and construct this, huh, Hajime?”

 

The brunet shrugged as they disembarked and strolled up to the grandiose entrance. After checking in at the 2nd floor reception desk, they silently sat in the waiting room, staring through the glass walls overlooking grey-blue water and overcast sky.

 

“Mr. Hinata?”

 

The pair turned and saw an amiable redheaded nurse in lavender scrubs beckoning them over. Hajime pulled Nagito by the sleeve of his jacket as he approached her, noting she was about a foot shorter than the pair.

 

“A friend. I want him to sit in on the appointment.”

 

“Of course, Mr. Hinata.”

 

She led them to an exam room at the end of the hall. The fluorescent lights coated Nagito’s hair and skin with a blinding edge, making him a dreamlike specter as he entered the room before Hajime.

 

Nagito crossed his legs and clutched his wrist in the opposite chair. “Not that I mind or anything, but why did you want me to sit in?”

 

“Because I’m staying for yours.”

 

The blond’s eyebrows raised. “What? Why?”

 

“Do you really mind?”

 

Before they could continue, a middle-aged woman entered with a tablet in hand. Her silver hair was piled into a disheveled bun and she wore a white coat over a loose, almost-bohemian floral dress. _THIS is the doctor? Super modern hospital with glass windows, bragging about being a research facility with experimental treatments, then THIS?_

The physician smirked a little, noting Hajime’s poorly disguised expression, and extended her hand.

 

“Mr. Hinata? Hello, I’m Dr. Fujimoto, the chief neurologist here at JUH. Given your associations, I’ll also disclose that I’m a long-time consultant for the Future Foundation. How are you today?”

 

Hajime gingerly shook her hand, “Could be better.” He shifted, gesturing to Nagito.

 

Dr. Fujimoto nodded in recognition, “Ah, Mr. Komaeda! You’re here a little early. Are you both going to be present for both appointments? Then, I need you to sign here saying it’s okay for me to reveal your personal health information to this third party…” She swiped a few times on the tablet to an agreement, and the brunet quickly ran his finger across the screen. Nagito hesitated, but as Hajime’s eyes bore into him, he acquiesced and signed with his finger.

 

“Let’s take a seat.” Her hazel eyes blinked a few times before she continued, “So… from my understanding, Mr. Hinata, you’re concerned about your talent profile and memory acquisition following the Neo World—”

 

Hajime interjected, “Wait- wait, how did you—?”

 

Dr. Fujimoto nodded with a slight sigh. “I can see how this could be confusing. As a consultant for the foundation, I have access to prior medical history and personal files from your enrollment at Hope’s Peak… as well as your History and Physical that was completed prior to the Neo World Project. Obviously, keeping your information confidential is extremely important to us. However, I needed access to make these explanations a little easier and also to assist with making decisions to best serve you.”

 

The physician, noting the suspicion of the brunet, smiled warmly and said, “If it’s any comfort to you…I was an Ultimate Diagnostician at Hope’s Peak when I was much younger. I think it’s important to understand the upper echelon we live in because of our talents and I really want to do my utmost to answer your questions.”

 

_She sounds so scripted._ His eyes darted to Nagito, who appeared pleasantly unconcerned as his lips curved serenely.

 

“Okay fine, go on.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Hinata. When it comes to the abilities you achieved following the experimental neurosurgery at Hope’s Peak…I know that’s a sensitive topic and I am so sorry for what you experienced.”

 

Hajime gritted his teeth. “You weren’t involved, right? Keep going.”

 

“Yes, as I was saying…it probably wasn’t intended by the medical team, but you inadvertently obtained an ability to regain and repair memories. I know it sounds like science fiction, but… your amnesia was severe following the procedure and likely was negatively impacted by psychological trauma in the subsequent time. I suspect you, out of all of your colleagues, will continue to regain your memories over the course of your life. To what extent, I cannot say, but if you’ve been experiencing any sudden flashbacks, that’s likely a side effect of your ability attempting to repair your amnesia.”

 

Nagito quietly protested, “But when Naegi showed us the Neo World Program contract documentation, it stated that manually shutting down the program would force us to remember our time as Ultimate Despairs and completely forget the island program itself. How is it possible that we can only remember pieces of both phases?”

 

A gloomy expression overtook the doctor’s face. “Yes, well…I think the induced amnesia and the plan to ‘upload memories’ from the program, as it were, were not based on reliable data. The ethics of such experimentation alone…your class comprised the participants of the initial experiment. There may have been relative certainty for outcomes in theory, but there is no way to be sure how each individual’s brain will respond to a virtual program and any of the treatments used throughout that process. I’m sorry that I am unable to speak further on it.”

 

The brunet fumed as he said, “But you’re a consultant for them!”

 

She smiled bitterly, her eyes floating to the ceiling. “They asked me to collaborate, but I never agreed to the Kamukura project nor the Neo World Program. Now, I almost wished I had so I could help more, but I’m not sure I would have been able to respect myself…” She cleared her throat reflexively before saying, “Anyway, do you have any lingering questions about memories?”

 

Hajime hesitated with Nagito only a few feet away. _Perhaps he won’t think anything of it._

 

“Well…is there a reason my memories might stick only to a specific topic or person? It’s like I have déjà vu in the middle of something and the vision is so vivid…”

 

Dr. Fujimoto nodded eagerly in recognition. “Yes, I think you’re speaking to the role of emotion and mood in memory. It’s something the amygdala is largely responsible for, but I won’t bore you with the details. Basically, the more emotionally charged a memory is, it’s easier to recall.

If you have charged memories about a particular person or topic that makes you emotional, it would make sense that those are easier for you to regain.”

 

She paused before saying, “With regard to the intensity of these episodes, I highly recommend a referral to a psychologist and psychiatrist to address trauma and processing of these memories as they surface. Given your position in the foundation, it’s important to make your mental health a priority before taking on more responsibilities. Do you agree? I can even make the calls and get you started.”

 

Although her logic was sound, he felt ashamed as he looked to his friend for a reaction. But Nagito was Nagito, smiling encouragingly as if he would support anything Hajime wanted. _As long as I do it for hope, right?_

 

Hajime stated, “Maybe on a trial basis. I need some time to think it over.”

 

“Of course, Mr. Hinata. Now, if you don’t have any more questions now but they come up later, here’s my card and you can leave me a message anytime.”

 

He reticently grabbed the card and tucked it into his wallet.

 

The physician shifted in her chair. “Let’s move onto you, Mr. Komaeda. I’ll try to cut to the chase. When we looked through the head CT scans and MRIs, the frontotemporal degeneration seems to have reverted significantly… basically, the brain tissue in these lobes looks much healthier and more active than your most recent scans prior to the Neo World Program.”

 

She hummed as she perused a report on the tablet. “What’s interesting is that oncology has reported that the lymphoma is more consistent with stage 0 or I presentation and is limited to only a few small areas.”

 

Her eyes widened momentarily, as she swiped the screen. “Oops! It looks like the specialist already reviewed that with you. I’m not sure what to say, except you are indeed a very lucky young man, Mr. Komaeda.”

 

_So it did…we were able to…_

 

Nagito smirked. “Heh, luck, always full of surprises. Let me ask you, Doctor…would the brain changes impact my personality significantly?”

 

“Hard to say, given your eventful history. I imagine trauma also plays a major part, if not more so than the frontotemporal dementia or FTD. You have behavioral variant FTD, which may still cause you to be impulsive, apathetic to others, lacking empathy and insight…you may even have hypersexual and hyperoral behaviors…”

 

Hajime’s cheeks burned as the room went dark, Dr. Fujimoto’s pleasant voice drifting further and further away.

 

_Nagito had a lopsided grin, one of his eyes gleaming while the other remained hidden behind his messy locks. His feet and hands were bound behind him, his body writhing slowly on the ground._

_“Weren’t you…planning to feed me?_

_He felt his feet doggedly running from the scene in fear…not just because of what Nagito became, but also for the things Hajime might have done had he stayed._

“Are you alright, Mr. Hinata? Let me go and get you a bottle of water.”

 

Hajime’s vision cleared as he noticed he was alone again with Nagito, who had scooted closer in his chair.

 

His low voice skirted in. “It happened again, didn’t it?”

 

Hajime’s tongue was thick and his throat parched, though he didn’t respond for numerous reasons.

 

Nagito looked away, his chin resting on the back of his hand. “Hajime…maybe you should do the therapy. You have some time off…I’m sure Naegi would understand.”

 

The brunet retorted, “That’s rich, coming from you. And what about your trauma and memories? Are you just going to keep doing whatever comes to mind and not thinking of the consequences? Even if I couldn’t remember a lot of it, there’s so much documented…you even blew up the school gym according to the files…”

 

Dr. Fujimoto returned, balancing her tablet and two water bottles.

 

Hajime spat, “We need some time to settle things, Doctor.”

 

Her expression brightened despite the obvious tension in the room. “Oh! Feel free to get some coffee downstairs and chat. We were basically done anyway, Mr. Hinata… Mr. Komaeda. If you have more questions, you have my card, don’t hesitate to give me a call and we’ll schedule follow-up appointments as needed.”

 

Hajime muttered a weak “thanks” as he grabbed the water bottle, Nagito following closely behind. Without a glance, they silently found their way outside to a bench in front of a geometric fountain near the side entrance to the hospital. _The foundation certainly knows where their priorities are at…_

Nagito’s brow furrowed, seemingly concentrating on the dripping water before he broke the silence. “Why did you wait for me to wake up, Hajime? After learning everything I had done…and you must have known about my medical conditions as well…why didn’t you pull the plug?”

 

The brunet took a sip before responding, “Is that what you would have wanted me to do?”

 

“No, I wouldn’t want to die like that. Not without a demonstrable reason. I mean…if you wanted to protect the others and yourself from me, I would get that, but…”

 

_The only way forward is…telling him I guess._

 

Hajime bit his lip as he hesitated. _Tell him, Hinata._

The brunet leaned forward, his eyes focusing on the ripples in the water, imagining that he was only talking to himself.

 

“Look, you remember the World Destroyer AI right? It didn’t take long for most of the class to wake up after we started running the program. In fact, Mikan was one of the first. She began running scans on you when you were comatose after we received your medical records from the foundation. I guess she wanted to confirm the FTD and lymphoma.”

 

Hajime took another sip. “When she completed her scans, she reported that you were in later stages for both of these things but it hadn’t advanced since you started the Neo World Program. The neurologist she was consulting with…ugh, not that hippie Dr. Fujimoto, someone else.”

 

_Seriously though, that’s the best the Future Foundation could get? Stay on topic, Hinata._  

 

“Anyway, it had been several weeks already, still waiting for you to wake up.  The neurologist recommended that Mikan administer some experimental and pretty dangerous treatments while you were under. They didn’t want to do it themselves for legal reasons, obviously. She said it was quite possible you wouldn’t wake up at all or if you woke up, things might have been even worse than what I had read about you.”

 

Nagito’s voice became deathly quiet, “So…what did you do?”

 

Hajime’s hand was shaking before he balled it up into a fist. “We went back and forth with Naegi for a while, who convinced Togami to donate the funding we needed to start treatment. They said it was up to me, since I had voluntarily signed up for surgery to become Izuru Kamukura. I had to decide whether I could make that decision for you without your permission.”

 

The voice rose slightly as he repeated, “What did you do?”

 

Hajime made the mistake of looking at Nagito, the pale green eyes wide with shock, ecstacy, fury…he couldn’t possibly decipher this look.

 

_Maybe if I can appeal to him, something he could understand…_ Hajime looked down, carefully choosing his words. “I remembered that I signed up for the surgery to become the Ultimate Hope, whatever the school needed me to be. I was willing to give up everything to have hope and talent. All the things the others remembered about you… all the stuff I read about you…what little I could recall myself, you were the one who would sacrifice it all for hope. And I realized, maybe at some point in our past, you and I weren’t so different. Maybe, with enough hope and luck from the both of us, I could just bite the bullet, get you the treatment, and it would all work out. I thought Nagito Komaeda would appreciate that sentiment.”

 

Although tears shone in his eyes, Nagito’s emotions were like sharks swimming under the surface of his face. Hajime feared what he might get if he pushed too hard.  

 

_I can’t stop now._

 

“World Destroyer was supposed to help with everyone’s psychological instabilities when exiting the program, but I just didn’t think it would be enough for you…enough to just wait it out. So, I’m so sorry I didn’t ask…I really wish I could have, but Mikan administered the treatment and you were awake within a few days. We weren’t worried about your body surviving, your luck…was something out of science fiction. But who you would be when you woke up…we had no idea.”

 

Looking down, Nagito’s voice rang with false serenity, “You took a lot of risks, Hajime. You really should have just ended it for someone so pathetic.”

 

The brunet shook his head insistently as if shaking off his friend’s contradictory emotions. “Nagito…I…I was excited to meet you. I don’t know… waiting for you to wake up drove me up the wall. I was happy to see the others awake, but I was always a little disappointed that it wasn’t you. I don’t get why…maybe if I keep remembering things I will, but…”

 

The pair stayed silent for several minutes, listening to the water trickle in the fountain.

 

Nagito’s face shifted back into neutral as he said, “So, that’s why I’ve changed. It makes a little sense now. Thank you for telling me.”

 

Hajime’s eyebrows knit together, unease filling his stomach when he couldn’t pinpoint what Nagito was really thinking or feeling. He didn’t want to admit it, but he kind of enjoyed the not-knowing after being so perceptive with the others.

 

“I was always going to tell you…this doctor’s visit seemed like the best time. I understand if you hate me for what I did—”

 

The green eyes glinted with determination as his hand rested on Hajime’s shoulder. “I don’t. I can’t hate you…especially when I would have done the same for you.”

 

Hajime exhaled with relief, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

“So I guess we’re both pretty fucked up then...I’ll make you a deal, Komaeda. I’ll start going to therapy if you do. It would help if I wasn’t the only one doing it, you know?”

 

Nagito’s lips curved again as he nodded and offered his hand to shake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, I will discuss SPOILERS here! I just wanted to comment on my character and narrative choices. Obviously, Kamakura and Hajime inhabit the same body, the latter turned into the former via experimentation etc. But I figure that Hajime might talk about Kamakura as a separate entity to make sense of his actions, maintaining a boundary just to deal with everything that's happened. Another point I wanted to stress was that I don't believe that: memory loss + regained memories + reverted neurological damage = cured mental illness. Especially in the case of Komaeda, I haven't written from his perspective, so I established that he perceives he’s "changed" but it’s not confirmed what that entails. 
> 
> There had to have been some changes, healing, trauma that was addressed etc. for everyone to cooperate as they did in DR3 Hope. Personally, it doesn't make a lot of sense for all the characters to remember everything and yet function pretty well, nor does it make sense that all of this would be fixed with some Hope pep talks or World Destroyer alone. 
> 
> Again, thank you so, so much for the kudos and encouragement, especially from theholylight and MintFoxAuthor! I encourage more reviews and feedback because it helps me learn and do better the next time. Also, if people post negative comments, I plan to approve them unless they’re completely irrelevant or unconstructive. I also thank G for not so gently reminding me to not erase mental illness in these characters, though that wasn’t really part of the plan to begin with ;). Please remember that this is just my interpretation and I haven’t been doing this very long, I just really enjoy these characters…if you’re looking for something else, it’s easy to stop reading and find something more to your taste. 
> 
> Please enjoy and comment <3.

Hajime strolled several blocks along the beach boardwalk to meet his psychologist, Dr. Roka, for the third time. He felt his palms sweat slightly as he approached what could only be described as a modern hut, with dark green paneled walls on the sides joined to a point and the face of the building composed of glass. Hajime noted that the psychologist likely paid a small fortune to own or rent this space and he hoped that somehow translated to her abilities as a clinician. He apprehensively pushed the glass door open, surprised to see a figure clad in a black, buttoned-up Nehru jacket with tightly tailored matching slacks. Her thin lips curved upward slightly in a professional manner, her grey eyes acute under indigo pixie-cut locks. Hajime pushed himself to return the smile, yet he felt taken aback by how androgynously striking she was, like an intricate line drawing in motion.

 

“Hajime, just in time. Let’s walk back to my office.”

 

He followed her into a quaint, sparsely decorated space. Every object was black, white or silver, designed in more of a Northern European minimalism than Japanese. He assumed she was an avid traveler and wondered what brought her back before lowering himself onto the chaise as she took a seat across from him.

 

“Should I sit, err, or am I supposed to lay down?”

 

She released a small chuckle before straightening her face. “You asked me this last time. I know they usually lay down in the movies, but sitting is fine as well. You can even switch back and forth as you need. It’s really up to you. It’s your time.”

 

Hajime cleared his throat and crossed his arms, “So…what do you want me to talk about?”

 

Dr. Roka put on her glasses to skim over what Hajime assumed was his file and assorted notes. “Well…I gave you a notebook last week to start recording dreams, memories, any strange occurrences that happen between sessions. How has that been going?”

 

Hajime fought an eye roll as he responded, “I’ve managed to write most of the week, but it’s really frustrating…I try to read over what I’ve jotted down before bed, and nothing necessarily makes more sense or feels better. I just get more memories and weird dreams…it’s getting complicated.”

 

She nodded in agreement. “It can be a difficult process when you start. I want to encourage you to let the process unfold and take as much time as you need. It seems like you have been working and striving for years for other people, without much opportunity to think about what would be authentic and nourishing for you.”

 

Hajime scoffed, “You know who I work for.”

 

“Yes, and there can still be space for what you want. I would say that it’s harder for you to continue to work like this without cultivating space for the things you need and enjoy.”

 

_Easy for you to say. I can’t believe we’re talking about work-life balance…this is a waste of time._

 

Hajime sighed, “Look, I came here to deal with something specific. I want to make sense of these memories and why they’re coming up.”

 

Her eyes narrowed, but her tone remained even. “And I’m telling you this is a long process, so don’t expect to rush it.”

 

Likely an attempt to subvert the tension, her lips curved suddenly as she redirected, “Why don’t we talk about some of the things you remembered recently, then?”

 

Hajime obeyed, recounting the disjointed shards of his recollection: Nagito’s manicured left hand leaning on the wall of a ship during a very confusing conversation…Nagito smilingly admitting how he’d played Russian Roulette with five bullets loaded instead of one…Nagito looking at him, disdainfully during a class trial, calling him the “Ultimate Reserve Course Student”. Hajime was suddenly surprised by Dr. Roka raising her hand to interrupt him.

 

“Hajime, I don’t mean to cut in like this but…let’s try to figure out why these memories came up. One thing is obvious: Nagito Komaeda is central to all of them, but why him over the others?”

 

Hajime’s throat seized up as he shrugged his shoulders. _I can’t remember… I don’t know why it matters, why he matters._

 

The psychologist raised an eyebrow, insisting, “This is a safe space to talk, to take a stab at things even if it’s not right. Either that, or I can offer my analysis and we’ll see if we’re on the same page.”

 

Hajime remained silent, a minute or two where he could only hear the thudding of his heartbeat.

 

He finally mumbled, face burning, “Dr. Fujimoto said something about how intense emotion would impact what I remember, but why…I’m not sure.”

 

Dr. Roka nodded. “So, it’s safe to say you feel very emotional about Nagito.”

 

Hajime shot her a dirty look. “Ugh, it doesn’t make sense! I don’t really think…”

 

“Let me ask this: how do you feel after these memories come up? Does the content of the recollection impact how you react?”

 

Hajime shook his head, “I’m always kind of…shocked, and I usually need to take a couple minutes to settle down.”

 

“Settle down?”

 

Hajime shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “You know, catch my breath, let my heart rate slow down…”

 

“So, you have an adrenaline response, which is tied to intense emotional reactions, and you need some time after each episode to relax.”

 

 _Does she really have to keep drilling the point home?_ Hajime crossed his arms, biting his inner cheek.

 

“Hajime… do you have a different response during the memory? Does that depend on the content?” She held her chin, eyes narrowing. “For example, in that memory where Nagito insulted you during the class trial, how did you feel?”

 

Hajime felt a sudden pang in his chest, recalling how those green eyes went cold like glass, accompanied by an unfamiliar sneer.

 

“Surprised and…” He hesitated, knowing he was stalling.

 

“And?”

 

Nails digging into his arm, he quietly uttered, “Like a knife to the chest.”

 

Dr. Roka’s expression warmed as she nodded. “He really hurt you by saying those things.”

 

Hajime bit his cheek a little harder as he felt his chest becoming brittle, nearly falling apart. _What he said was kind of funny…seeing how it all turned out with me. So why am I…_

 

“It’s not what he said.” He shook his head.

 

“But Nagito’s opinion seems to matter to you. You seem to hold him in high regard, no matter how differently he interacts with you in these memories. It’s interesting…you don’t seem to question or disrespect him when talking to me about it.”

 

Hajime, somewhat dazed, interjected, “And?

 

The psychologist’s glazed over in recognition. “You assume that he’s always being sincere…you trust in it. And given the way you describe his medical and social history, don’t you think it’s a bit odd that you put so much stock in his reactions?”

 

Hajime clenched his jaw before he smirked. “You’re calling out contradictions, huh? That used to be one of my jobs, you know.”

 

Her brow furrowed as she pursed her lips. “That’s part of getting to the truth, isn’t it, Hajime? Why do you put such faith and value in a historically unreliable person?”

 

Hajime shook his head, grasping the chaise in a white-knuckled grip. “Can’t remember.”

 

“How was it for you when he woke from his coma?”

 

A flood of thoughts washed over him so intensely that a shiver ran up his spine.

 

“You’re smiling, Hajime.”

 

He laughed lightly despite his pained expression. “I had no idea he was going to…so quickly after we, you know… Nagito called me Izuru Kamukura, but then…” Hajime pictured Komaeda’s look of recognition. “He corrected himself and called me Hajime instead, said that he believed in me…” He felt warmth spreading inside his chest, as if the memory was something delicious he had just eaten.

 

Hajime bit his lip, continuing, “I never wanted to let him down after that. But now that I’m remembering more, I feel like…I probably let him down or misunderstood him so many times. And I wonder what’ll happen if he remembers more.”

 

Dr. Roka’s eyes crinkled as her lips quirked upward. “You know, even with all of the extraordinary things you all have done, this problem…I believe is much more common than you think. It sounds like you really care for Nagito and you’re worried it will change the more that you remember. And maybe you’re unsure of whether he cares about you, given the mixed signals in the memories. Perhaps…”

 

_She doesn’t think that… THAT’S what’s going on, right?_

 

She took off her glasses and leaned forward in her chair. “You could make an effort to spend more time together, build your friendship. See if your feelings about the memories change if you have more grounding in your current knowledge of what kind of person Nagito is.”

 

Her eyes darted to the clock. “I’m sorry, we’re out of time for today. Let’s continue next week, same time work for you?”

 

His nerves on edge, Hajime nodded hurriedly and left without another word.

 

_Spend time together, huh?_

 

* * *

 

Hajime dawdled at one of the benches overlooking the beach, his thumb running along the screen of his phone, debating whether he would be bothering him. _Come on, he’s hardly employed anyway and you’ve hung out before…_

 

Steeling himself, he swiped to locate Nagito’s name and pressed the button to dial.

 

Several rings passed. Just as he was about to hang up, a breathless voice answered, “Hajime?”

 

“Um, yeah it’s me. Am I bothering you?”

 

A light laugh. “No, no, of course not. I’m just…surprised. How are you?”

 

“You know, same old. Are you doing anything right now?”

 

Nagito sighed, “Yeah, well…I was helping Kazuichi repair Ibuki’s guitar amp.”

 

“What? I didn’t know you were into stuff like that.”

 

“Eh, not really, I’m not all that good at being handy, unless I’m particularly interested. It was really just to pay Kazuichi back for some maintenance on my mechanized hand.”

 

Hajime nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s cool of you. I was just checking if you wanted to hang out, but if you’re busy—”

 

“Of course not! Wait, one second—”

 

Kazuichi’s voice cut in, “Hey Hajime! Man, you should come over, we’re wrapping this thing up for Ibuki pretty soon and she’ll be here in a bit. Can you bring some beer?”

 

“Ugh, of course you would ask. Fine, I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

 

The brunet rolled his eyes as he hung up, making his way to Rocketpunch before taking the bus to Kazuichi’s garage on Second Island. As he entered the front door of the old red-brick building, the din of thrashing power chords overwhelmed him. Nagito gritted his teeth with his hands over his ears, but once he registered Hajime’s presence, he happily beckoned him over. Ibuki’s playing came to a screeching halt as she turned around, waved, and flashed him a cute grin that contradicted her edgy appearance. Kazuichi swaggered over to Hajime, sharp teeth glinting as he beamed.

 

“Amp sounds awesome, right, Hajime? What beer did you get?”

 

The brunet pushed the six-pack toward him. “I didn’t know you were into repairing things besides vehicles. Wait a sec…” Hajime’s eyes narrowed as he searched Kazuichi’s face and noted hoops pierced through his lips, ear cartilage, and eyebrow. “Wow, you got pierced again?”

 

Kazuichi chuckled, his cheeks flushing as he looked down. Ibuki threw her arms around the mechanic’s torso. 

 

“You like ‘em, Hajime? A girl like me can be pretty persuasive! Now he looks like an Ultimate Punk Rock Roadie, don’t you think?” She nuzzled Kazuichi’s shoulder before she said, “Speaking of which, I’m gonna head to Black Orchid early to rehearse for the show.”

 

Kazuichi’s eyes gleamed at her, briefly kissing her forehead. “I’ll be there in a bit for sound check. It’s gonna be fucking brilliant!”

 

He looked from Hajime to Nagito. “You guys wanna go, too?”

 

Nagito’s green eyes widened as he bit his lips. Even Hajime remembered that the blond wasn’t crazy about loud places.

 

Hajime grimaced, scratching the back of his head. “Next time? I’m not feeling that great today. I’ll hang out until you’re ready to head out.”

 

Ibuki walked towards the exit, her sing-song voice teasing, “You boys are missing oooouuuuut!”

 

Kazuichi’s eyes became wistful as the sound of her motorcycle grumbling faded away. He nodded to Nagito and they loaded the amp together into the back of his truck. Kazuichi handed Hajime a bottle of beer and opened one for himself when Nagito refused.

 

Hajime cleared his throat. “So…Ibuki…”

 

Kazuichi’s face erupted into boyish smile. “Yeah…”

 

Nagito shyly interjected, “I’m really glad you found someone you could be yourself with, Kazuichi. It must be really nice.”

 

The mechanic snorted loudly, taking a swig of beer. “Yeah, after all that bullshit with Miss Sonia? Man…”

 

Hajime’s eyebrows drew together as he took a sip. “Did anything happen with Sonia?”

 

Kazuichi grimaced, taking a longer swig, “I dunno, we hung out and talked a lot before Gundam woke up. She’s a gorgeous girl and wicked smart, but…she wasn’t really into tinkering with machines, I wasn’t really into the occult so…I’m just happy she chose someone she connected with, not because of money or being a big name or whatever.”

 

He grinned, his eyes softening. “So, when I started hanging out with Ibuki, and we were able to talk about cars, music, equipment… we’d stay up all night, going to shows and then it wasn’t just hooking up, but actually getting to know how she got to be who she is… and dude, when she’s onstage, it’s fucking electric!” Kazuichi’s eyes glittered as his face flushed.

 

Arms wrapped around himself, Nagito’s voice drifted in, “So…that’s what it’s like.”

 

The brunet flushed crimson. _What’s he thinking about?_

 

Shrugging, Hajime clinked his bottle against the mechanic’s. “Well, here’s to Kazuichi Souda’s emerging maturity toward women.”

 

The blond beamed as he chimed in, “You’re officially several rungs above Teruteru!”

 

Kazuichi shuddered as he yelled an octave higher, “Ugh, dude! Why do you have to bring up that pervert? Do you want me to keep tuning up your robot hand?”

 

The rose-haired man downed the contents of his bottle and wiggled his eyebrows at Hajime. “Since Nagito has no chance in hell…I’m gonna ask you, Hajime. Any girls you’re into lately?”

 

Hajime felt the blond’s gaze burn into his skin before he finally made the mistake of making eye contact. It was several moments before Kazuichi’s screeching voice cut through.

 

“What the hell is with you guys?”

 

The brunet scrambled, “Errr…I was just thinking…who’s even available anymore?”

 

Kazuichi scoffed, “Come on! Akane’s super hot—”

 

Hajime protested, “She’s with Nekomaru, and if she’s not, she should be.”

 

“What about Peko?”

 

“Her and Fuyuhiko…do you even pay attention?”

 

The mechanic’s face turned almost maniacal. “Yeah, but you’re Hajime Hinata! Don’t you have some, like, Ultimate Sex God talent? Oh wait, you’re still a—”

 

The brunet turned scarlet, vehemently protesting, “Shut up, Souda! We were kind of busy with the Despair stuff, remember? And maybe during my Kamukura days…”

 

Nagito leaned forward, a small mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “I can attest to Izuru Kamukura’s magnetism, but I doubt anyone could keep his attention... he had such a flat affect… even if you are the same, Hajime, you’re not like that.”

 

_Did he remember more stuff about me from those days? Why does he sound so happy about it?_

Kazuichi shuddered, redirecting, “Let’s not talk about that creepy shit. Who else did we forget? Um…Mikan? She seems like she’d be a demon in the sa—”

 

Hajime violently shook his head. “No, she’s been treated really badly and she apologizes all the time. It’s so uncomfortable sometimes…she deserves someone way nicer.”

 

The mechanic scoffed, “So picky for a virgin…what about Hiyoko or Mahiru?”

 

The brunet incredulously responded, “Um…I think they’re a lot more into each other than guys like us. You’re so bad at picking up on this stuff, I’m starting to think it was a miracle that you got with Ibuki…did you steal some of Komaeda’s luck?”

 

Nagito sighed, “I really hope so…I could use a break from it.”

 

Kazuichi shrugged, “So, are you going to date locals then? That’s a lot of shit to explain, man…or maybe…” His voice trailed off, his face falling into an uncertain frown.

 

The blond persisted, “Maybe…what?”

 

The mechanic laughed weakly, pulling down his black beanie and averting his gaze. “Um, Hajime…maybe you’d prefer guys? Nothing wrong with that, but…I never would have guessed. I mean, Ryota is, uh, a pretty guy I guess.”

 

Hajime had lost his words, swallowing several times instead. Still, he was unable to get his voice out to either confirm or deny his friend’s observation. He silently looked at Kazuichi, who was tapping his foot to some song in his head as he fiddled with his lip piercing. The brunet’s eyes drifted to the other man’s light green orbs, noting a pale pink dusted across his porcelain face as his mouth fell half-agape. Hajime cleared his throat, his eyes darting to the clock over the garage door.

 

Nagito took the hint and said, “Hey Kazuichi, are you going to have enough time to get to Black Orchid?”

 

The mechanic gratefully seized the distraction. “Oh shit! Yeah, I should head out.”

 

Hajime pulled out an eight-bit hairclip he’d fashioned into a keychain, muttering, “I think I liked Chiaki…I remember her face from the files. We used to hang out after school and play video games, I think. She was really nice and smart…right?”

 

Grabbing his keys from the workbench, Kazuichi’s face contorted, then relaxed into recognition. “Yeah, I remember her, she was pretty cool, quiet…really good gamer, too.”

 

The brunet tensed as he felt a hand gently press into his arm. “I dunno when the next bus is running, but I’ll walk you home, Hajime.”

 

He nodded to Nagito, and the pair said their goodbyes as they exited the garage. They waited to watch Kazuichi’s truck speed past before they continued their walk.

 

After a minute or so, Nagito said, “I’m sorry. I imagined Chiaki was pretty well liked by all of us, from what we could piece together…but you both had something special, even if you weren’t in our class.”

 

Hajime’s eyes flitted across the horizon, the setting sun’s glimmering reflections scattered across the waves. He wondered if Chiaki would be happy to inhabit the water’s ripples, the sun’s rays, the coast’s breezes...he was more perplexed that, despite the memories he had, he thought of her so abstractly, so poetically. His attachment to her had been strong and he mourned her for days after exiting the Neo World Program. Naturally, it surprised and saddened him to bring her up as a shield against Kazuichi’s assertion that he might be gay or bisexual.

 

Hajime collected himself as he responded, “I’m just glad she didn’t end up like us, you know? The others said she always had hope and kept them going before she…”

 

Nagito smiled weakly, his arm inadvertently brushing against Hajime’s. “She always took care of our class, brought us together…she was much better than me at that, even when I had been so devoted to becoming their stepping stone.”

 

The young men silently strolled along the boardwalk, reaching the bridge to Central Island before Hajime could find his voice.

 

“Errr, Nagito?”

 

The blond nodded with a small smile.

 

“Since Kazuichi grilled me so badly before, it’s only fair for me to ask…is there anyone…?”

 

Nagito’s cat-like eyes darted to Hajime’s face before staring straight ahead.

 

“Uh, Hajime…I feel lucky enough to be on friendly terms with everyone as it is. It wasn’t always the case, not in class nor in the Neo World Program. To want a relationship…with the way that I am, with all of their talents, I could never be an equal to any… no, well, most of them anyway.”

 

_Most of them?_

The brunet’s voice skirted in. “So…there’s an exception?”

 

The blond’s hand rested on his chin as he looked up in thought. “Dealing with my luck, things would be…complicated for most people. I don’t know…your relationship prospects are far more interesting, Hajime.”

 

Hajime chortled as his hand waved the notion away. “I’ve got too much baggage as it is. That’s why I’m going to therapy after all.”

 

Nagito protested, “It’s true for me also, on both counts. So, why would you ask me about that stuff?”

 

The brunet’s cheeks burned as he shrugged. “I’m curious what your type is, that’s all. I can’t imagine it.”

 

_I guess I won’t be getting an answer to that one. Maybe it’s better that way._

 

They arrived at Jabberwock Park, the elaborate bronze statue illuminated by antique streetlamps. Nagito tilted his head toward one of the benches with a lopsided smile.

 

“We’ve been walking for a while. Do you want to chat here for a bit?” He winked. “Or do you prefer our love nest?”

 

_Nagito…?_

Hajime bit the corner of his lip. “I-I don’t th-think that’s the word you meant to use…but, um, we can sit here for a while.”

 

His heart pounded with a sudden arrhythmia, fading as he nodded and made his way to the bench. His companion’s white hair was coated yellow in the light, his skin betraying the shallow circles under his eyes.  

 

The brunet casually asked, “How have you been doing lately? Are the sessions helping?”

 

Nagito reclined, his head resting on the back of the bench as his eyes looked up at the sky. Hajime became distracted, tracing the illuminated line that started at the peak of his forehead, to the bridge of his nose, down along the curve of his lips and the slope of his chin, skirting his Adam’s apple. _Yeah…that’s his profile… so, why am I staring?_

 

Nagito’s lips quirked as he ran his fingers through the tufts of his hair. “Therapy tends to stimulate my memories and concerns, but my psychologist gives me ways to reframe what I’m experiencing. Even when I practice what he tells me to do, it’s been hard to sleep lately. But I enjoy nighttime. Everyone’s quiet so I can hear the waves and think about…” His eyes shut abruptly as his face fell.

 

Despite his eagerness, Hajime flatly probed, “Think about?”

 

“You regaining memories…about me. And what that might mean.”

 

_You’ve been thinking about me?_

 

“What?”

 

“I get worried that you might…hate me for what I’ve done, especially things I can’t even remember. I tried to imagine what it would be like for the others to hate me, and it doesn’t bother me as much. But you…I really wouldn’t want that.”

 

His expression brightened suddenly as he tilted his head in Hajime’s direction. “But if that’s what you wanted, I would do my best to leave you alone if it made you happy!”

 

Hajime groaned, resting his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but…with what I’ve remembered so far, I don’t think I could hate you.”

 

“Hajime, you’re being way too gracious about it –”

 

“No! No, I’m not…look, we’re all here to atone for our lives before, remember? I’m sure I’ve done a ton worse than you, even if I can’t remember all of it. In fact, I’m more worried that—”

 

_What’s getting into you? Dr. Roka said to hang out, not spill your guts immediately._

Nagito shifted toward Hajime, his legs crossed, his arm balanced on the back of the bench as his head leaned against the palm of his hand. Several locks of hair obscured his right eye. Hajime figured if they weren’t just friends sitting in the park together, this would be a pretty seductive pose for Komaeda. _Wow, Hinata, maybe being a virgin is really getting to you now._

 

“Am I boring you, Hajime? I feel like you keep losing focus.”

 

“N-no, I just got kind of tired.”

 

Nagito’s lips curved into a knowing smile as he nodded. “Therapy is making it hard for you to sleep, too?”

 

“Well…the memories more so.”

 

The blond gently teased, “Any new ones about me?”

 

Hajime bristled as he lied, “Nothing too exciting.”

 

“Well then, what have you been talking about in therapy? I mean you don’t have to tell someone like me, if you don’t want to.”

 

_You. The whole time. And I’m impressed you didn’t call yourself pathetic, worthless trash, lowly bug…does that mean you’re making progress?_

 

“Just trying to make sense of why certain things are coming up...honestly I’m not sure how helpful she’ll be…it’s more like she’s helping me say how I feel.”

 

Nagito nodded as he looked upward again. “That’s more like the humanistic approach, right? I read about it at the library when I was deciding who to go to…but I chose someone who’s more psychoanalytic in their practice.”

 

 _And now I feel like trash for not putting as much thought into it as you, even though it was my idea._ _I am a shitty Reserve Course student._

 

“What’s with the scary face, Hajime?”

 

He didn’t want to leave yet, but he had a feeling Nagito would drag everything out if he stayed any longer. _Is that something you used to do? Did I trust you that much? Or did you figure everything out without my trust?_

 

He stood facing his friend who was still comfortably reclining. “Uh, I should get going. I’m sorry we stayed at Kazuichi’s for so long and we didn’t get to talk more…” He started towards the road.

 

“Come on, Hajime, it meant a lot that you came all that way for someone like me…and probably Kazuichi, too. Plus…I found out that you’re not interested in any of our classmates, which was really surprising!”

 

“Hey! That’s not what I said.”

 

_Ugh, Hinata, I think he got you again._

 

Not looking back, he sprinted toward his apartment, hoping Komaeda wouldn’t think much of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Kazuichi/Ibuki is not a common pairing and is bordering on (if not completely) crack ship, but I think they make sense?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for the delay, I hit some writer's block and had been going through a bit of a life transition the past couple of weeks. Also, forgive me if my editing is a bit rough, I just wanted to get this posted and will read through when my head isn't spinning. A quick shout out to Butterfree, Sayurin, theholylight, antimoony, and anyone else I missed for your lovely reviews which kept me inspired as well as everyone who left kudos! Keep me posted about how you feel about the story, I appreciate all of your feedback so, so, so much! 
> 
> TW/CW: Brief, slightly gory scene at the beginning.

_He walked into a derelict warehouse after dark, a figure eerily illuminated by the fluorescent light blinking on and off. His white tufts of hair were long and unruly compared to the last time. Calling him here…clearly somebody had a flair for the dramatic. He approached the young man stealthily so as not to startle him._

_He heard himself say, “An old dump. How boring.”_

_The figure turned around, greeting him with a crazed grin, his eyes gleaming with a slight twitch. The sallow skin betrayed many sleepless nights, which only made him lazily wonder what scheme the young man conjured with all of that time._

_“Oh, Kamukura, it’s so good that you came for little old me. I promise you, this is sure to be entertaining, now that you’re here.”_

_He eyed the table behind Komaeda, noting the antiseptic solution, latex gloves, bandages, suturing kit, an old surgical saw…someone had done their homework._

_He quietly watched as the figure poured the liquid to disinfect his left forearm, then likewise with the saw. Komaeda retrieved the wooden bite block from his pocket before gingerly placing it in his mouth, bearing teeth in an approximated grin. He drew the saw along the nearly translucent skin of his upturned forearm, the blood slowly dripping out of this first incision. Tears welled up in the greyish green eyes, but the smile remained, eventually joined by a muffled, gleeful laugh. Sawing back and forth…back and forth…the tears flowed, the grin widened, a few growls…several small screams. Whatever sounds he made, those green eyes hauntingly pierced into his own the entire time, as if this whole display was only an attempt to arouse his audience. He watched as the lifeless limb hit the floor, the blood mingling with the remnants of antiseptic. Komaeda spit the bite block out onto the floor._

_“Are you still bored, Kamukura?”_

* * *

Hajime shot up in bed, drenched in perspiration, his heart thudding forcefully in his chest. _He…did that to himself in front of me…and I just watched? I didn’t even try to stop him…I didn’t even care? Is that who I was? It’s my fault…Komaeda cut off his arm just to…get a reaction out of me…what the fuck…_

 

He barreled into the shower, goosebumps spreading across his skin under the cold water. He clenched his teeth as he finally lathered soap over his arms, the image of Komaeda’s surgical attempt continually flashing in his mind. Feeling dizzy, he steadied himself on the wall tiles, focusing on his own left arm, unharmed and unremarkable. _I’m so sorry, Nagito._ Groaning slightly, he continued to rinse his shivering body.

 

Once he felt settled enough, he abruptly turned off shower faucet and grabbed the towel hanging over the door to hurriedly dry off. After dressing in a haphazard manner, he checked his phone. _7:43 AM. He should still be at home. I could call but…who knows what I would say after remembering that._ Hajime jogged several blocks before reaching the apartment building. He paused at the apartment marked _109_. _This is the place… should I even bother him like this…?_ He persevered, reluctantly knocking at the door a few times.

 

The shuffling behind the door and a strained “just a minute” only served to make Hajime consider making a run for it. It was impulsive to show up like this after such a dream and he felt the dread seeping into his chest with every passing moment.

 

The door opened eventually, revealing Nagito in his signature but wrinkled t-shirt and dark jeans. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he cocked his head and a surprised smile lit up his face. The brunet’s eyes roamed over his friend several times, unsure of how to greet him. His eyes paused at the junction where Nagito’s arm ended and the prosthetic began, feeling his throat seize up.

 

“Hajime…so early…what’s going on?”

 

_How does he look so messy and yet so clean at the same time?_

 

“I’m sorry I…ugh…I don’t know what…”

 

Nagito’s smiled shyly as he rubbed his eyes, searching Hajime’s face in a familiar manner.

 

“You remembered something.”

 

Hajime frowned in tacit acknowledgement, a labored sigh all but confirming his statement.

 

The blond beamed as his marble eyes widened. “Am I so lucky that you’re actually going to share your memory with me?”

 

Hajime shrugged nonchalantly, despite his heart racing. “Let’s get breakfast.”

 

They silently took the Second Island bus together, the thudding in his chest and clamminess of his hands worsening as he gripped the edge of his seat. After they finally reached the stop nearest to the diner and entered the door, an older waitress eyed them suspiciously before asking for their drink orders and seating them at a booth with a window overlooking the beach. Hajime drummed his fingers on the table as he perused the menu, guessing he probably wouldn’t have much of an appetite during their conversation. He felt reticent to share the new knowledge as he silently raised his eyes to meet the green-eyed laser focus across the table.

 

Nagito pressed gently, “You’re not going to tell me? I mean, I understand if you changed your mind…I’m a lowly—”

 

“I want to order first.”

 

The waitress returned with a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice, taking their orders and swiftly leaving their table without a hint of a smile. _At least try a little bit, so I can tip you…I’m not even going to eat much anyway…_

 

“Hajime…”

 

The brunet clutched at his legs, shaking slightly under the table. His eyes drifted to Nagito taking a sip of coffee, the prosthetic fingers supporting the body of the mug. Hajime fought off a whimper in the back of his throat, but his furrowed brow betrayed him. Nagito paused, the cup resting at his lips, as if beckoning him to continue.

 

Hajime shook his head, insisting, “Maybe right now isn’t the best time.”

 

A mischievous smile descended upon the blond’s face, his eyes glittering. “You know…you woke me up this morning…I mean, I’m so pathetic that you might not care about my sleep patterns but…it’s been a challenge for me to fall asleep lately—”

 

“Alright! Alright…just give me a second.” Hajime’s eyes widened in horror at this blatant manipulation, yet he understood better than ever that when Nagito wanted a reaction, he would do a great many things to get it.

 

Steeling himself, Hajime grabbed the salt shaker, turning it in his hands and concentrating on the individual grains tumbling inside the glass container. “Okay…it was really awful this time…I’m just warning you…”

 

Nagito nodded, offering a pleasant expression at his modest victory.

 

The brunet sheepishly noted, “Just to clarify, I was fully Kamukura during this one.”

 

Nagito half-smiled with a glint in his eye. “As opposed to the Kamukura/Hinata blend that we all know and love?”

 

_Know me AND love me?…Ugh, it’s an expression, Hinata. You’re pathetic._

“Heh, whatever. Anyway…so I walk into this warehouse at night…you chose this creepy-as-fuck location, by the way.”

 

The blond shrugged and nodded with a soft chuckle.

 

Hajime rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah, real funny…so hilarious that it woke me up…you’re there and your face…” The brunet’s lower lip quivered before he could bite it as the image came to mind, wishing he could erase it.  

 

Nagito pensively rested his chin on his hand. “I assume it wasn’t pleasant?”

 

“I’ve…I’ve never seen you look like that…I don’t know if we would have ever talked to each other if I’d seen you that way…”

 

The blond’s mouth hardened into a line. “So, I was right…you’ve started remembering things that make you hate me—”

 

“Shut up and let me finish. Apparently, you called me there to watch you…” Hajime nodded to the mechanized arm.

 

Nagito’s lips parted slightly, his eyebrows drawn downward in a serious expression.

 

“Yeah, and then you asked me if I was still bored, after you, uh, finished.”

 

The blond self-consciously wrapped his fingers around the prosthetic wrist, his eyes scrutinizing the surface of the coffee. His wan complexion blanched further as he shut his eyes.

 

“I did? Ugh, I’m sorry I asked you to be there…I guess I wanted your attention. You were so much more talented than I was…can you blame me?”

 

_Why would he want…?_

 

“I know I’m disgusting and I hate that you have to remember it…when I still don’t.”

 

Before he could contain himself, Hajime reached across and grabbed Nagito’s arm.

 

“Um…no, look, I- I should be apologizing…what honestly bothered me the most was…I watched you and…did nothing.”

 

Hajime felt his friend’s forearm tense under his grasp without an attempt to pull away.

 

His speech labored, the brunet continued, “I can’t…believe the type of person I was…if anyone’s pathetic, worthless trash here…it’s me.”

 

Hajime felt the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes, biting the lining of his cheek to stall them.

 

“Okay, lovebirds, here’s your Island Scramble, Coconut French Toast, and extra plates if you want to share.”

 

Not bothering to correct her, the brunet snatched his hand back as his head hung low, muttering an embarrassed “thank you” as the dishes were dropped aggressively at the table.

 

Nagito smiled slightly, his eyes almost wistful as he searched Hajime’s face.

 

The brunet raspily said, “What?”

 

“Hajime, I’m just wondering…if it weren’t for you becoming Izuru Kamukura and giving into Despair for a time…would we have ever met?”

 

The brunet avoided his eyes as he silently dumped some of the scramble on his companion’s plate before filling half of his own. The blond’s eyes warmed and slowly blinked, as if pausing to appreciate the gesture.

 

“I mean, you were in Reserve Course and I was barely in Main Course…in fact, I was suspended for a period of time, but anyway…would we have an Ultimate Hope if it weren’t for you taking that risk?”

 

Hajime violently shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Look at everything that happened as a result. This was just one of the things I can remember …what if you kept trying to hurt yourself that whole time?”

 

Nagito softly uttered, “Is that the worst that you can imagine?”

 

The brunet clutched his hair as his head began to spin. “How could I be complicit with you hurting yourself? How is there a part of me that was okay with it? Especially now that I…” His voice trailed off, his cheeks burning as tears threatened to spill at any given moment.

 

“One sec, Hajime.”

 

Nagito suddenly left the table to go to the counter. Hajime watched as the waitress handed him some containers and a bag. _Now I’ve done it. Now I’ve weirded him out and he wants to leave._ When the blond returned to the table, he began dumping the untouched scramble from their plates into one container, french toast into the other. Hajime didn’t fully register when Nagito left cash at the table, clearly over-tipping, before he was pulled toward the exit by his friend.

 

Hajime weakly protested, “Where are we going?”

 

Nagito responded by forcefully pulling his hand as they strode toward the supposedly private beach. The tears finally rolled down the brunet’s cheeks, cathartic as if they had stood at the ready for years without permission to release. Hajime wanted to sink into the sand and disappear, entirely unready for Nagito, of all people, to see him like this. _I’m so weak, I can’t even face what I’ve done, not like him._

 

The blond pulled him down to sit in the porch shade of an old abandoned beach house. He suddenly felt fortunate that it was slightly overcast with no surfers nor sunbathers out to gawk at them. Nagito silently pulled out a relatively immaculate wad of tissues from his jacket pocket and offered them to the brunet. Hajime dried his eyes with the back of his hand, still clutching the tissues in a white-knuckled fist. The pair sat quietly, watching the light sprinkle of rain quickly developing into a heavy downpour.

 

The blond’s mouth contorted into a wry smile. “It was only a matter of time.”

 

Hajime groaned, “Don’t make this about fucking luck again, please.”

 

Nagito’s eyes darted to his friend and back again before responding, “I’m sorry, just a habit and it’s a kind of a worthless talent, but…at least something good might happen, sooner than expected.”

 

_Something good? What good could possibly come of us being stuck here, alone, awkwardly waiting for the rain to stop while he watches me lose my shit…_

 

Fidgeting to get comfortable, Hajime felt his hand landing on something cold and metallic, feeling it flinch under him. Realizing it was Nagito’s hand, he quickly retracted his own.

 

“You felt that?”

 

Nagito looked out at the waves thoughtfully, his eyes overtaken by reflections of the grey clouds and ocean.

 

“The sensors have been a bit more reactive since Kazuichi fixed it up. I’m still getting used to it…your hand was really warm.”

 

A slight pink tinge appeared across his pale cheeks as he hugged his long legs against his chest, his mouth now obscured by his green-sleeved arms. The brunet idly played with stray grains of sand on the concrete porch, trying to distract himself from their proximity.

 

“So… the prosthetic feels something like your own hand now?”

 

“No, not nearly as sensitive, but I definitely get a feel for temperature and pressure…not that I’ve had many people touch my hand besides Kazuichi and the doctor sometimes.”

 

The pair looked up in response to the rumble of thunder as the rain began to fall harder, splattering against the edge of the porch and forcing them to scoot closer under the canopy.

 

_Who knows when we’ll get out of here now…it really should be bothering me more._

Nagito’s right hand wrapped around the prosthetic wrist to remove it. “Did you want to look at it?”

 

“N-no, no, it’s fine. I was curious, but…whatever.”

 

The blond turned to him, his face partially obscured by his white locks, betraying a faint smile.

“Feeling hungry yet? I got us some silverware.”

 

Hajime silently shook his head before he let it fall into his hands.

 

“I understand. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so upset, Hajime…did you want to talk about it?”

 

The brunet mumbled, “That’s what I have a therapist for.”

 

Nagito tilted his head toward him. “I’m sorry, maybe I’m being presumptuous, but…aren’t we friends who can talk about these things? I mean, you’re upset about me, so…”

 

“But it’s not your fault. I’m just afraid that…” His voice trailed off as he felt a tremble in his fingertips.

 

“Afraid that…?” Grey green orbs pierced his own, urging him to keep talking.

 

Hajime’s eyes sank between his knees as he pulled them to his chest.

 

“With these memories, I feel like the more I get to know you, the further away I am…and I can’t even complain about that, because I don’t even understand myself from before…”

 

_Here we go…_

 

Nagito’s voice softly cut in, “Wow, Hajime, I didn’t realize you thought about someone like me this much. Do I come up a lot in these memories?”

 

Hajime bristled as he countered, “Do you ever shut up? And if you must know, you feature in all these goddamn memories…”

 

_Now you’ve done it._

 

Although Hajime avoided looking at him, he could hear the blond fighting off a grin in his voice.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Would I joke about something like that? Why are you so happy?”

 

While the brunet’s forehead fell to his knees, he heard Nagito shift and sit closer, his breathing becoming shallow.

 

“I mean…I didn’t expect to be this lucky so soon…”

 

Through gritted teeth, the brunet spat, “What fucking luck?!”

 

“Hajime, you of all people admitted to thinking about me perhaps as much as I think about you. I never ever thought in a million years that would be true, much less that you would tell me.”

 

The brunet hesitantly turned his head, one of his eyes exposed, taking in Nagito…so close, his grey-green eyes like large marbles illuminating his slightly flushed face, his arms wrapped around himself as he sat cross-legged…that alarming yet majestic expression his friend had when overwhelmed. And something he said caused the blond to react this way.

 

Hajime struggled for words, only managing, “Y-you think about me?”

 

The blond laughed melodiously, his eyes nearly tearing. Surely, he was crazed, but not in the torturous way Hajime remembered that morning.

 

“What’s funny about that?”

 

Nagito covered his face slightly, his laughter continuing as he replied, “Asking if I think about you…the greatest understatement of the century, I would say.”

 

_Oh no…don’t tell me…please be serious…_

 

His face now pulsing from the blood rushing to it, Hajime weakly objected, “But you just met me when we woke up, and we weren’t in the same class…”

 

The blond looked out wistfully at the shore, still clutching himself loosely. “To be honest, I could use the same argument for you. Of course...of course, I remember things now, but when I woke up…it’s like I had known you so long, like there was someone I was coming home to…ever since my parents passed, I’d never known a feeling like that. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird for worthless trash like me to say something so sentimental to someone like you.”

 

_Nagito, please...I won’t be able to…_

_Hold back._

Hajime knelt in front of Nagito, his hands gently grabbing the blond’s shoulders, the latter issuing a subtle gasp he would have surely missed if not for their proximity.

 

Nagito’s shoulders tensed as his eyebrows drew together, perplexed, “Hajime?”

His voice trembling, the brunet finally stated, “I-I was waiting for you. I don’t know why, but I had to be the one…the one you woke up to. I wanted to believe that we really know each other…I want to accept everything that we are, that we’ve done.”

 

_What am I doing?_

 

The blond’s face relaxed in realization, the whites of his eyes expanding in awe. “Hajime…”

 

Hajime leaned in, one of his hands drifting to the soft nook of Nagito’s neck, feeling the locks of hair brush against the back of his hand.

 

_I can’t stop._

 

The brunet persisted in an almost-whisper, “You know…Kazuichi could have guessed a million times about who I really wanted and he would never get it right…”

 

The blond’s eyes softened, almost twitching, his voice low and uncertain. “But you could have a million people, you don’t have to settle, Haji—”

 

The voice devolved into a whimper as Hajime pressed his lips against Nagito’s soft mouth, tasting the salt of his skin mingled with the bitterness of coffee, wanting to take in his friend’s tongue so eagerly. He hesitated until he felt the metallic fingers wrap in his hair and the muffled pleased sound from the blond’s throat beckoning him. Nagito’s mouth opened slightly and Hajime felt intoxicated at the invitation to drown like this, his tongue languidly pursuing his friend’s, his hands desperately grasping as if he couldn’t feel enough. He felt the hands push gently at his chest, forcing them to part.

 

Barely catching his breath, Nagito said, “Are you sure this is what you want? Even if you remember more stuff…things I can’t explain?”

 

Hajime hummed with satisfaction as he nodded. “I want you. Whatever that means.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I deeply apologize for this crazy delay, hit a block but I've been eager to keep this going. I'm not sure about how this one turned out, but I really wanted to get it posted. Thank you to everyone for your continued reading and support, kind words, encouragement...it really means so, so much that you're all sharing this with me! Please continue to give feedback and I'll start doing my shoutouts in these notes as well! Enjoy! <3

The rain showed no signs of letting up, accompanied by frequent flashes of lightning and the distant rumble of thunder. Hajime extended his hand to touch Nagito’s cheek, close enough to note the drops of perspiration on his forehead and the touch of vermillion that spread across his pale face. He felt his skin burning unnaturally as his grey-green eyes began to glaze over.

 

_It’s like he’s…lovesick? Is that really a thing?_

“Hajime…we went too fast…I feel…”

 

The brunet’s other hand flew to the other cheek as he cupped Nagito’s face, his own eyes frantically searching.

 

“What? Was I too f-forceful or something?”

 

Nagito beamed weakly, but gently backed away from Hajime’s touch, his hands spread in front of him in that appeasing manner.

 

“No, nothing like that…just don’t want you to catch it…I’m coming down with something…”

 

Hajime’s brow furrowed as he felt a sinking weight in his chest.

 

“Right now?”

 

His eyelids began drifting open and closed as his skin flushed further.

 

“What you did …I had to pay…”

 

Nagito’s eyes rolled back slightly before his head nearly hit the concrete, saved only by Hajime’s hands guided by Ultimate reflexes. The brunet let his friend’s head rest on his leg as he frantically fished out his phone, hailing a cab. 

 

“Stay with me…I’ll get you home, unless…should we go to the hospital?”

 

“Mmm…it’s just a fever…I think I could take the bus…”

 

Hajime rolled his eyes as he trailed the car’s blinking marker across the screen’s map, his fingers aimlessly stroking Nagito’s limp hair.

 

“Shut up, Komaeda.”

 

Nagito’s voice became frail and low as he muttered, “Ugh…you shouldn’t…for little old me…”

 

A chime resounded from his phone and he saw the vehicle’s marker had paused at the driveway on the other side of the beach house.

 

“C’mon, Nagito, they’re here.”

 

The blond groaned as he rose to his feet, unstable like a drunk or a fawn, although Hajime leaned toward the latter in his estimation. The brunet situated the slightly taller young man’s arm around his shoulders as he held onto his lithe waist, resisting his strong inclination to pull the blond toward him. As they shuffled around the building, careful to stay on the concrete and under the awnings, he heard a familiar shrill voice call out.

 

“What are you boys doing out here in this weather?! And no umbrellas?! Are you trying to get sick?! You’re so lucky I recognized your number on the app, idiot!”

 

Hajime squinted at the compact, dark-green car and the stark contrast of the unmistakable red bowl-cut hair.

 

“Mahiru?! What the—”

 

Her eyes widened, which only intensified her glare.

 

“Get in! NOW!”

 

The brunet groaned as he guided the partially dead weight of their blond friend into the backseat before falling in next to him, exhausted.

 

“Seatbelts!”

 

Hajime seethed, “Okay, Mother, okay!”

 

As he buckled in a sprawled-out Nagito, he took in the pleasant but delirious expression on his face as he drifted in and out.   

 

Mahiru’s face shifted from annoyance to solemn concern. “Is he okay? What were you guys doing out there on a day like this?”

 

Hajime’s face flushed as he shuffled through possible excuses. “I guess he just got sick. We just wanted to…you know, pick up some food and hang out at the beach, but as you can see…” His hand gestured flippantly toward the window before buckling his seat belt.

 

Suddenly self-conscious, the brunet crossed his arms, the drenched shirt clinging to his torso.

 

“Anyway, why are you driving a cab? No money in photography anymore?”

 

Mahiru bristled slightly, shifting into drive as she responded, “Well, you know I prefer portraiture to landscape photography, because of the kinds of stories you can tell…and people can have really great conversations in cabs, or so I hear. I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be an interesting project to take pictures of passengers and make a gallery collection?’”

 

Hajime protested, “But how do you get enough to pose for you?”

 

Mahiru’s eyes threw daggers at him through the rearview mirror as she huffed, “You’re such a pessimist, Hajime! It’s easy…I just waive their fee and cover their fare, they sign an agreement, and most people agree to it. I have nearly enough photos for the collection, so don’t get used to free cab rides from me.”

 

Hajime shrugged, mildly bemused. “Oh…interesting. Well, let me know when you have the show…”

 

The brunet fell silent for a while after that, more distracted by the weight of Nagito’s body pressing into him, his friend’s head leaning on his shoulder.

 

_I wonder how this looks to her…not that I care that much...though I should catch up with her, since it’s been a while._

“Err…how’s Hiyoko doing?”

 

Mahiru reflexively smiled, her eyes crinkling in an unfamiliar manner.

 

“Ah well…she’s been developing choreography while I prepare for this art show…she really wants to perform there. After that, I think she wants to do a small tour. I’ll go with her, take photos…she always complains that she can never get her kimono just right on her own…”

 

Hajime scratched his neck as he tried to tie his words together. “So, you both are…you know…? How did it happen?”

 

Her eyes narrowed in the rearview mirror as she hissed, “You have the nerve to think about us? Like that?”

 

The color drained from the brunet’s face as he scrambled for explanations.

 

“What?! No, no! I remember how young Hiyoko looked in the program, acting like a really bratty younger sister…god, no… I just mean, she’s really abrasive.”

 

The redhead cocked her head to the side, seemingly satisfied. “I guess that’s true, though not really with me. She asked to be roommates, and then we spent most of our time together, one thing led to another and…yeah. We’re both artists, but in very different media, so we don’t compete…I guess we understand each other well.”

 

“How about you, Hajime? Any time for…you know…”

 

The brunet hesitated, even though he was painfully aware of how obvious and dramatic confession he had made only minutes prior.

 

“Um…well…it’s been busy lately, and I’ve been taking leave from the Foundation to figure things out.”

 

Mahiru nodded. “Finally, you seem to have your priorities in order! I’d been telling you since we got back that you need to take it easy…you take on so much for the team. You were so ready to jump back in. Stupid.”

 

Hajime shrugged silently, eager for her to drop the subject.

 

She cleared her throat as she redirected, “So am I dropping you both off at your places, or…?”

 

“Let’s go to Komaeda’s. I should help him get to bed and make sure he takes some medicine.”

 

Her eyebrows drew together as she asserted, “You’re not planning on going home, right? Not in this weather…”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just wait until it lightens up.”

 

They drove in silence until the car rolled to a stop in front of the apartment building enshrouded in hazy, dim light through the steady rainfall. Nagito’s eyes were closed as his head leaned against Hajime’s chest before threatening to dive into the floor of the car. The brunet automatically cradled the blond’s head as he looked out the window. He heard a camera shutter click.

 

Mahiru’s eyes widened at the screen of her camera. “Wow…Hajime, this is…”

 

Hajime, shaken from his stupor, anxiously grabbed in vain at the camera.

 

“What are you--? Give me that! You didn’t even ask!”

 

The redhead cocked her head. “Did you really want to pay the fare? Look, I’m ethical. I won’t keep it unless you both sign off, but let me at least work on the image…I think you’ll really like it. I’m a professional, remember?”

 

Hajime’s voice skirted dangerously low as he replied, “If you show _anyone_ …”

 

Mahiru rolled her eyes as she nodded, gesturing for the young man to leave the vehicle.

 

The brunet groaned and muttered under his breath, opening the cab door and gingerly helping Nagito’s uncoordinated frame as he exited the cab.

 

Mahiru implored, “Try to keep your distance! You don’t want to get sick too, do you?”

 

Hajime nodded dismissively. “Okay, Mother, I’ll see you later.”

 

Her expression brightened slightly and she waved them off as they slowly made their way to Nagito’s apartment. Hajime noted his friend’s condition worsened as he felt the blond’s body lean into him more heavily than before, his face flushed and eyes fading in and out.

 

“Hey, we’re almost there, okay?”

 

“Unnnhhh…”

 

As they reached the door, the brunet fished for the keys in Nagito’s jacket pockets. Unsuccessful, he nervously felt his hand dip into the right pocket of Nagito’s jeans, the blond’s thighs tense and tight under the cloth. Thoughts of his hands slowly peeling off his friend’s clothes to reveal pale, smooth skin flooded his mind as he quickly unlocked the door.

 

_Come on, he’s sick…I’m awful._

 

Hajime refocused as he felt the heat of his friend’s fever radiating while he led him to the bed. The blond plopped down like a ragdoll, his hazy green-grey eyes slowly opening and meeting Hajime’s gaze. He weakly fussed with his jacket, far too disoriented to remove it.

 

“Hajime…it’s too warm…and wet…”

 

The brunet obediently unzipped his jacket, marveling at his long limbs as he struggled to take them out of the sleeves. The blond sprawled on the bed, delicate yet disjointed, his t-shirt slightly raised revealing beads of sweat on his torso. Hajime bit his lip, wondering what it would be like to taste him.

 

“Hajime…more…please…”

 

The brunet felt his nerves light up at the feeble sound of his voice, almost begging and yet familiar, knowing that he would be compelled to do anything this voice asked of him.

 

Hajime leaned in, feeling Nagito’s forehead, as he asked, “What is it?”

 

“I’m still too hot…I’m sorry…”

 

“Um, okay, so do you want a fan? Some water?”

 

“Just…take it all off.”

 

_Take it all off?_

 

The brunet shook his head slowly. “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea…you know, you have a fever, it might get worse…”

 

Nagito suddenly grabbed Hajime’s wrist, urging him, “I feel…drenched…sweaty… disgusting…please?”

 

_Why…why now, of all days…_

 

Hajime ran his fingers along Nagito’s burning, firm torso as he lifted the t-shirt gently over his head. His eyes fixated on his slender waist and pert, light pink nipples. The blond shot him a weak smile, only convincing him to go further. He loosened and pulled off his shoes, then his socks, noting that even his feet were long and delicate. Hajime’s fingers reached the button of Nagito’s dark jeans, his fingers trembling as he became dizzy. The blond’s smile returned, his eyes gently urging the brunet.

 

“Please?”

 

Hajime felt a sharp intake of air as he unfastened the button far too easily, his fingers languidly reaching for the zipper and pulling down as Nagito’s hips shifted slightly. The brunet’s fingers gently tucked into the waistband, feeling the skin of the blond’s hips soft and hot against the back of his fingers as he began to pull them down. The jeans halted at the midpoint of Nagito’s slightly muscular thighs and Hajime’s eyes roamed over the small checkered boxers, his mouth falling open slightly. Shaking off his reverie, the brunet hesitated before forcefully pulling the jeans down, feeling the blond flinch beneath him before relaxing. Hajime averted his eyes as he threw the jeans over the couch.

 

“Thanks…Hajime…” Nagito issued a raspy chuckle as he rolled to his side.

 

The brunet’s eyes darted to his friend. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Well…you said you wanted me earlier and…you can’t… even look at me. I guess… I am kind of disgusting...”

 

Hajime shook his head, annoyed yet flustered. “You know that isn’t true.”

 

Nagito lazily rolled onto his side as he looked at Hajime.

 

“Will… you stay? You know…how I am about….taking chances… the storm and all.”

 

_It’s not going to happen this way, right? I can’t risk it… I mean look what happened after just a kiss…a really remarkable kiss, but just a kiss nonetheless._

Hajime turned away from him hesitantly. “Let me make room on the couch.”

 

The chill of metallic fingers wrapped around his wrist, impeding him from starting toward the sofa.

 

“Hajime…you really don’t…need to...just…stay next to me…for a bit?”

 

Hajime reluctantly turned toward Nagito, his drowsy, heavy-lidded gaze revealing the flourish of an unexpected hunger, a longing…

 

_The absurd Monokuma library materialized, the blond’s eyes downcast yet aching with a knowing smile, so unlike his disturbingly hopeful and impulsive self._

_“It seems there’s no one willing to inherit my soul. I have no parents, no siblings, no relatives…not even friends or acquaintances.”_

_Hajime felt a dull ache spread throughout his chest, and as much as he willed himself to embrace Nagito, his body refused to budge an inch._

_“Because of my self-righteous thoughts, everyone distanced themselves from me.”_

_Hajime cursed himself for his caution, his lack of nerve, his fear of closeness, his inability to comfort a friend who was clearly vulnerable to him._

_“I was fine with that while I was still healthy, but it’s quite lonely to die alone…Now that I’m on the verge of death, I’ve finally realized what I wanted all along.”_

_Hajime knew exactly how we wanted to respond, how we would give anything and everything to spare Nagito this momentary suffering, but his memory counterpart had apparently seized up and elected to be a bystander, to his great frustration._

_“Somebody’s love.”_

Hajime finally came to, his arms wrapped tightly around burning shoulders, his hands clenched along the bare skin of Nagito’s back. He realized it was warm and dark from having his face nestled in the crook of the blond’s neck, moist from the ongoing tears. He felt fingers stroke his rough hair.

 

The voice croaked, “Hajime?”

 

_I knew you were sick, that you could have died without what we did but…to hear you say it like that…_

 

The brunet struggled as he said, “Y-you’re not alone, okay? I-I would never let that happen…never to you…I know I should have told you sooner…”

 

The voice dropped to a near whisper, “What do you mean?”

 

Hajime only sobbed quietly, his grip tightening around Nagito’s slender frame.

 

He felt dry, warm lips press against his forehead.

 

“The past…you don’t have to tell me…don’t worry about that…so much…whatever it is…you didn’t mean to do it…I didn’t mean to do a lot of it, I’m sure…”

 

The blond’s hands pulled him close onto the bed and Hajime’s thoughts succumbed to black in exhaustion, surrounded by the heat radiating from his friend... his love, more accurately. 


End file.
